


Never Kiss and Tell or How Brendon Urie Never Got to Top Again: A Cautionary Tale

by fiddleyoumust



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/pseuds/fiddleyoumust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The have some sex. Brendon is smug and insufferable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Kiss and Tell or How Brendon Urie Never Got to Top Again: A Cautionary Tale

Spencer's frowning and it's pretty much the most adorable thing Brendon's ever seen. The room is lit low with a few candles burning on the dresser and the bedside table, and Brendon has all of their supplies resting on the pillow on his side of the bed.

Spencer crosses his arms and gruffly says, "What the fuck is this?"

Brendon pulls the hem of his shirt up and strips it over his head as he walks toward Spencer, smiling fondly at him, lip caught between his teeth in an attempt to keep himself from laughing. Laughing at Spencer isn't going to help him get what he wants.

"I figured you'd recognize a seduction when you see one, Spence," Brendon says.

Spencer's brow furrows even more, but he doesn't resist when Brendon leans in and kisses him. Brendon loves the ways Spencer's mouth feels, hot and slick and scratchy where his beard rubs against Brendon's chin and cheeks.

Brendon slides his hands up Spencer's arms to his shoulders, trailing his calloused fingertips along Spencer's neck until he feel Spencer start to shiver. He twists his fingers in the ends of Spencer's hair, pulling until Spencer angles his head, deepening the kiss. Spencer moans and takes a step forward, bringing their chests flush against each other.

Brendon isn't all that surprised when Spencer takes another step, forcing Brendon to take one back so that they're moving across the floor toward the bed. Brendon thinks the bed is a really good idea, but it isn't Spencer's show tonight, and Brendon already knows how this is going to play out, even if Spencer hasn't caught up yet.

When Brendon feels the back of his thighs hit the bed, he pulls his mouth away from Spencer's and trails his hands down so he can help Spencer out of his shirt. It's a tangled rush of hands and fingers and blue jean buttons after that, both of them standing by the bed, racing to see who can get naked first.

Spencer beats him by a few seconds, reaching for him even as Brendon is kicking his underwear off from where they're caught around his ankle.

"Come here," Spencer says desperately, even though Brendon _is_ here, right next to Spencer, only a touch away.

Brendon turns to face him and hums happily when Spencer palms across Brendon's hips, pulling him in so that they're practically touching from shoulder to toe. He lets Spencer kiss him again, hungry mouths and teeth. It's rough and a little ugly, too much tongue and not enough lip, but Brendon doesn't care. He feels hungry, like he wants to put his mouth everywhere and taste, like he can't get enough.

He senses it a moment before they go crashing onto the mattress, and it gives him a chance to twist so when they land, he's sprawled across Spencer's chest, Spencer's back flat on the mattress.

"You're bossy tonight," Spencer says, but he smiles into the next kiss as Brendon repositions himself, straddling Spencer's hips before he leans down again.

"Hmmm," Brendon hums against Spencer's mouth.

Brendon keeps kissing Spencer, slowing the tempo as he goes until it feels like there isn't anything else in the world but the two of them in this room, on this bed. Brendon kisses the corner of Spencer's mouth, making him sigh and twist his fingers into the sheets. Brendon moves to Spencer's chin and throat, biting into the hard muscle of Spencer's shoulder. Spencer's hips lift off the bed and a throaty moan vibrates through his chest.

Brendon raises his eyes and watches Spencer's face as he continues to kiss and bite his way down Spencer's body. He puts his knee between Spencer's legs, nudging Spencer's thighs apart until there's room for him between them.

Spencer's not really a screamer, but he's beautifully vocal in his own way. Brendon listens to his grunts and moans, smiling into Spencer's skin when he get an occasional, "Fuck, _yes_ ", because Spencer's never met a moment he didn't think could be made better by dropping the F-bomb.

Brendon kisses Spencer's hip bone, bites his thigh, and lifts his leg, slinging one of them over his shoulder, so he can taste the back of Spencer's knee. Spencer's hips keep lifting off the bed, his cock seeking friction but getting nothing but air. It's maybe the hottest thing Brendon has ever seen, Spencer's back bowing off the bed, thigh muscles trembling.

Brendon can't quite catch his breath. He's so turned on, he thinks he could probably get off just like this, just from the taste of Spencer's skin. He's curious to see if he could actually do it, but he has other plans tonight. It's not like there won't be more time to try that out, and Brendon takes comfort in that as he takes Spencer's cock into his mouth.

He traces his tongue along the head, licking lightly at the slit, making a show of swallowing the precome he finds there. Spencer closes his eyes and lets Brendon know he likes it by saying Brendon's name, breathless and bitten off.

Brendon licks a path down Spencer's shaft to his balls, kissing Spencer's skin, open-mouthed and wet, before he moves lower, using his hands to spread Spencer open for his tongue. Spencer bucks hard against Brendon's mouth, his upper body shaking from the shock of Brendon's tongue in his ass.

Spencer says, "Fuck. What..." before he breaks off into another moan, lower and deeper, but loud enough that Brendon can feel it where his hands are on Spencer's ass and thigh.

Brendon doesn't answer, just works him over, works him open with his lips and his tongue until everything is wet and slick and he's starting to relax. Brendon runs his thumb teasingly along the crease of Spencer's ass, making Spencer shiver from head to toe.

Spencer says, "Brendon, holy shit," and Brendon raises his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He moves his other hand over a little, dragging his thumb across wet skin and presses in, his thumb sinking in a fraction of an inch, before he asks, "Really? Never?"

Spencer's got his eyes screwed shut, his hips stuttering up off the bed and back down onto Brendon's hand, causing Brendon's thumb to sink in that much further.

Spencer says, "No, never."

Brendon's heart is going so fast it sort of feels like he's on some crazy combination of Red Bull and Effedrine. He still can't really believe that Spencer's never done this. Spencer, who lost his virginity before Ryan did. Spencer, who talks about sex like other people might talk about the weather. Spencer, who Brendon has pretty much regarded as a sex god even before they were having sex with each other.

Brendon bites his bottom lip and smirks playfully, pushing his thumb in further before he says, "I'm totally going to take your virginity, Spencer Smith."

Spencer's chest is practically heaving, but he manages to muster up an eye roll. "Fuck you," he says, jutting his chin out defiantly even as Brendon pulls his thumb back and crawls up the bed to retrieve the supplies he set out.

"No, fuck _you_ ," Brendon says, popping the cap on the lube and squeezing it generously over his fingers.

Brendon really wants to draw this out, but he's not sure how long either of them are going to last. Brendon's pretty fucking keyed up, and Spencer looks one push away from falling over the edge already.

He uses his index finger first, pushing in to the first knuckle, barely giving Spencer anything to work with. Brendon knows what this is like. He remembers his first time, distant and a little bit foggy through the haze of all the alcohol he'd consumed at the time. Every time since then hasn't been that much different. It's always a shock, the push pull of feeling too full and wanting more all at once.

Brendon uses his thumb to press along the skin behind Spencer's balls even as he pushes his finger in to the second knuckle, twisting and bending to try and find Spencer's prostate. Spencer's hips come off the bed, and his hand flies to Brendon's shoulder where it's pressed up against his thigh.

"Brendon," Spencer pants, but it doesn't sound like _stop_. Brendon sinks his finger in as far as he can and crooks it until Spencer moans and curses and digs his fingers into Brendon's shoulder. He lays a quick kiss to Spencer's knee and pulls his finger out, adding more lube before going back in with two.

Spencer breathes heavily through his nose, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as Brendon works him open with his fingers. He gets a rhythm going, crooking and fucking Spencer open until Spencer is pushing his hips against Brendon's fingers, working himself onto Brendon's hand. He's still squeezing Brendon's shoulder, knuckles white from holding on so tightly.

"You okay?" Brendon asks, and Spencer nods frantically, his throat moving as he swallows and tries to form words.

"Yeah," he finally says. "Just... I need."

Brendon moves his thumb, pressing where Spencer is stretched around his fingers. Spencer's breath gets impossibly louder, and Brendon moves his thumb teasingly without actually penetrating him.

"Brendon," Spencer says, pleading.

Brendon watches him, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat every time he swallows uselessly. They're both covered in sweat and the room is starting to smell less like candles and more like sex with every passing minute. It's all really fucking hot, and Brendon knows if he doesn't get this show on the road, he's not going to last very long.

"Spencer," Brendon says softly.

Spencer turns his head and opens his eyes, as Brendon presses his fingers in deeper, finally adding his thumb to the mix. Brendon feels downright smug when Spencer lets go of his shoulder to blindly reach across the bed for the condoms by Brendon's pillow.

Brendon really, really, really wants to fuck Spencer, but there's still a part of his brain that has to be sure. As much as he want this, it's not worth messing them up, and he wants Spencer to want it as much as he does.

"You sure?" he asks, pulling his fingers out of Spencer's body and wiping them across the covers.

Spencer makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and presses the condom into Brendon's hand. "You need a written invitation?" he asks. He puts his arm across his face, over his eyes, and it's such a typical Spencer reaction that Brendon thinks, _okay, we're really doing this_.

Brendon slowly rolls the condom on. His cock is hard and flushed red, and he's a little bit sorry he didn't jerk off before they did this, because he knows it's not going to last as long as he wants it to. On the plus side, he has every intention of making it really good. Hopefully, Spencer will want to do it again, and soon.

He rolls the condom on, fumbling a little since his hands won't stop shaking. He pours a little more lube into his palm and works it over his cock quickly. Spencer still has his eyes covered with his arm, and Brendon suddenly wants to see his face. He lines himself up carefully and says, "Spencer," sharply.

Spencer moves his arm and they stare at each other intensely as Brendon pushes in, his hips moving steadily forward. Spencer is impossibly tight. Brendon watches his face scrunch up, part concentration and part pain. He wants to ask if Spencer's okay again, but he's more likely to get yelled at than to actually get a straight answer out of Spencer right now.

Spencer glares and says, "Fucking move already," and that's when Brendon realizes he's been staring at Spencer for what is probably an inappropriate amount of time considering his dick is currently up Spencer's ass.

He starts moving; short, purposeful strokes, that have Spencer bucking underneath him. It feels strange to be on the opposite side of this. It's not like Brendon's never had control of their sex before, but he's never had control like this. He's never held Spencer down to the bed and watched his face, watched what kind of reaction being _inside_ him gets. It makes him feel powerful.

He puts his hands on Spencer's hips, and Spencer's thighs squeeze around him tighter, one of his heels digging into the small of Brendon's back. He feels a tad bit narcissistic, because he can't stop looking down, watching as his cock thrusts in and out of Spencer's body. He alternates between watching himself fuck Spencer and glancing up at Spencer's face every time he gets the angle just right.

"I'm going to make you come," Brendon says purposefully, and Spencer (the fucker) quirks his eyebrow and says, "I certainly hope so."

Brendon's torn between laughing and glaring, so instead he reaches between them and wraps his hand around Spencer's dick. Spencer hisses, hips stuttering up into Brendon's hand before pushing back onto his cock.

They get a rhythm going. Brendon feels blissed out, teetering on the edge of orgasm, and Spencer feels so good wrapped around him that he's not sure he wants to fall over that edge. There's sweat and lube everywhere, making everything slick and perfect, and Brendon knows he's going to come any second. His thrusts speed up on their own, and then Spencer comes beneath him, shaking and shaking, his muscles contracting around Brendon's cock. Brendon's hips falter, completely losing the rhythm, and then he's coming too.

 

###

 

Spencer wakes up groggy and sore and _alone_. He can hear Brendon puttering around the kitchen though, and the faint smell of coffee has drifted down the hallway, making Spencer's mouth water. He decides a shower before breakfast is probably a good idea, and he gets gingerly out of bed, making his way to the bathroom, turning the water on so hot it'll make his skin turn red.

He doesn't bother getting dressed, since they don't have to be anywhere until afternoon, just throws on a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt and goes to beg for coffee.

Brendon's only half dressed. He's not wearing a shirt, and he has on a pair of Spencer's sweat pants that look like they might fall off his hips at any moment.

"Those are my pants," Spencer says, going to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Brendon turns around and leans against the counter, cocking his hip out provocatively. He's smiling, the kind of genuine smile that lights up his eyes, and Spencer can't help returning it.

"You're in a good mood," Spencer says, pulling a chair away from the table, wincing a little as he sits down.

Brendon's smile gets impossibly larger and downright cocky as he says, "You having trouble there? Need me to get you a cushion or something?"

Spencer glares over the rim of his coffee cup. "So, can you give me a time frame on how long I'm going to have to put up with this?" Spencer asks.

He's sort of annoyed with himself for not figuring out that Brendon would be completely insufferable about this sooner. Of course, Brendon is completely insufferable about a lot of things, and Spencer usually bears it well. He's just hoping Brendon gets bored with this sooner rather than later.

Brendon keeps smiling though, shrugging his shoulders as he turns to pour beaten eggs into a pan. A few stirs in he starts humming Katy Perry and a few seconds after that he starts singing, only he changes the words to _I fucked Spen-cer, and he liked it_.

Spencer doesn't know whether he wants to kill Brendon or laugh at him. It's quite possible he wants to laugh at him _while_ he kills him. Instead, he lets Brendon bring him eggs and toast and tries to prepare himself for what is certainly going to be a long day.

After breakfast, they go to the studio to meet Jon and Ryan. Spencer can already feel the beginnings of a headache brewing at the back of his skull and he would really love nothing more than to climb back in bed and sleep. His head hurts and his ass hurts and he doesn't want to deal with the first and can't admit to the second. Brendon is already entirely too smug about what went down last night, and even if he doesn't know it yet, he is never, _never_ topping again.

They play a couple of new songs, and Spencer watches Brendon bounce around the studio. He's always impressed with Brendon's stamina, but today it's kind of annoying. It's making him even more exhausted just watching him.

Brendon is also being incredibly helpful. It's not something Spencer can really call him out on even though he really wants to. Spencer fucks up one of his sticks early on, and Brendon runs to get him another one. An hour later he brings Spencer two bottled waters and throws the empties away for him when he sets them on the floor by his kit.

Jon orders pizza, and Spencer is half way off his stool before Brendon jumps up and says, "I've got it. You need paper towels too?"

Spencer practically growls when he says, "I can get my own fucking pizza, Brendon."

Brendon just quirks his eyebrow and bites down on his smile and says, "You should rest. I'll get it for you."

Spencer opens his mouth to protest again, but Jon and Ryan are already looking between them curiously. Spencer grumbles under his breath and sits back down, snatching his pizza and a paper towel out of Brendon's hand when he brings it back.

"Stop it," Spencer whispers harshly.

Brendon smiles even bigger and says loudly, "Stop what?! I'm not doing anything."

Spencer can feel his skin heating and he's not sure if it's embarrassment or anger, but either way, he's going to make Brendon pay for it. "I hate you," he says.

Brendon leans in and kisses him quickly on the mouth, and Spencer feels something soften inside him. He's almost smiling again until Ryan says, "Okay what's going on? What are we missing?"

Brendon's face changes then, like he's just been _waiting_ for someone to ask him. Spencer's stomach fills with dread, as Brendon turns around, and practically yells, "Spencer needs to rest his ass. He's a tad bit sore today, because I totally tapped that last night!"

As if that wasn't bad enough, he also throws his arms up in the air and struts around the room like he's just scored the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl. Spencer wants to die, or possibly he wants Brendon to die. He's not really sure, but he knows he really doesn't want to be here, especially with Jon laughing behind his hand and Ryan looking mildly amused at his expense. He hates his entire band.

Spencer doesn't speak the entire drive home. Brendon keeps taking his eyes off the road long enough to glance his way, but Spencer resolutely does not look back.

"You're not really mad are you?" Brendon asks as he turns the ignition off in the driveway.

Spencer answers by getting out of the car and slamming the door. Brendon comes in behind him a few minutes later and does that thing he does when Spencer's pissed off at him. He acts like he's pissed off too, like if Spencer is going to be mad, then Brendon will play along and not speak to him either.

He walks past where Spencer is sitting in the living room, stride brisk and angry and slams their bedroom door hard. Spencer hears the shower start up a few minutes later, and he sighs, rubbing at his temple uselessly.

His head still hurts, and he thinks caffeine might help, so he goes to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. It's still early, and Spencer thinks about cooking something, but he's still full from the pizza, and he'd mostly be dirtying dishes just for something to do. Instead he sits down at the kitchen table and starts going through the mail. He figures he might as well be useful while he waits Brendon out.

Brendon emerges from the bedroom slightly damp with a towel wrapped around his waist. Spencer doesn't look up, because he honestly doesn't think he has anything to apologize for. Brendon's been going out of his way to be annoying all day, and if anyone needs to apologize, it's him.

Spencer finishes separating the junk mail from the bills, while Brendon makes a show of rummaging through the freezer. Spencer thinks he's being purposefully noisy, and is totally proved right when Brendon sits down at the table next to him and starts crunching loudly on a cup full of ice.

 

Spencer lets him until he can't take it anymore. He reaches across the table, snatching the cup from Brendon's hand. "Just stop it," he snaps, putting the cup out of Brendon's reach.

They face off across the table, Spencer glaring and Brendon frowning back at him before Brendon shrugs and gets up from the table.

"If your ass is that sore," Brendon says cattily, "all you had to do was ask and I would have gotten you your own ice."

Spencer shoves back from the table, knocking his chair over and practically snarls, "Okay, enough. You've had your fucking fun."

Brendon turns around and says, "I was _joking_. You're the one who had to go and be an asshole about it."

Spencer says, "You were joking at my expense. It's not so funny when everyone is laughing at _me_."

Brendon looks suddenly furious, and before Spencer can fully register it he's practically shouting in Spencer's face. "I'm so sorry," he says. "I didn't realize having my dick up your ass was something you should feel ashamed about!"

Spencer thinks they should probably both calm down, but that's not looking very promising. "That's not what I meant," Spencer says, and his voice is loud even though he's trying not to yell. "Though at this point, you'll be lucky if I ever let your dick anywhere near my ass again."

"Yeah that's totally fair," Brendon says. "Maybe we should just never have sex again."

Spencer actually snorts at that, because the idea of Brendon giving up sex is possibly the only funny thing Brendon has said all day. "Yeah right," Spencer says. "You would rather die than stop having sex."

Brendon's skin is flushed, and he rolls his eyes, biting down on his bottom lip. Spencer's own skin starts to feel hot, and yeah, despite the fact that he's pretty pissed off, he's also starting to get turned on. Brendon's got that look about him, like maybe all the yelling has got him riled up too, and Spencer thinks maybe a bout of angry sex is just what they both need to take some of the edge off their anger.

"Whatever," Brendon says. "We're trading off at least. We're definitely taking turns."

Spencer cocks his eyebrow and smiles wolfishly. "In that case," he says, reaching out and pulling Brendon's towel off his hips, "it's my turn."

He grabs Brendon by the hips and turns him around, slamming him chest first on to the kitchen table. He's not sure how Brendon is going to react, but he's pleasantly surprised when Brendon goes still beneath him. His breathing speeds up, and he curls his fingers against the wood, his nails seeking purchase.

"Nothing to say now?" Spencer asks, curving his body over Brendon's so he can whisper it in his ear.

Brendon huffs beneath him, and it sounds so disdainful, Spencer can practically see the eye roll. "Yeah, actually," Brendon says. "If you're going to fuck me, you better get the lube out of the junk drawer. I'm pretty pissed off at you, but I will burn every pair of shoes you own if you try to fuck me dry."

Spencer snorts against Brendon's neck and says, "Don't move," before he lifts himself off Brendon's back and goes to search through one of the kitchen drawers.

When he turns back, triumphant, Brendon is still exactly where Spencer left him, naked and bent over the table. Spencer is very suddenly fully hard, and he palms against his jeans to try and take some of the edge off. "Why do we have lube in the kitchen?" he asks, walking back toward Brendon, opening the lube and slicking up his fingers.

Brendon still doesn't move. He's got one of his arms by his head, his face tucked in tight, so it's muffled when he says, "For emergency kitchen floor sex, but I figure kitchen table sex is in the same category."

Spencer is sort of crazy about Brendon even when Brendon is driving him crazy. His fingers are all slick and sticky, but he also wants to _touch_ Brendon. He drags his hands up Brendon's arms, his fingers sliding over soft skin and muscle, until he wraps his hands around Brendon's wrists, forcing Brendon's arms up the table until they're stretched out over his head, his palms flat against the wood.

 

"Don't move," Spencer says again, and Brendon tenses for a moment, his back arching up and his fists clenching, before he relaxes back against the table.

Brendon's face is pressed firmly into his upper arm, muffling the noises he makes when Spencer drops to his knees and spreads Brendon open for his mouth. He doesn't do anything fancy, just licks across Brendon's skin until he's wet enough to start working one of his fingers in along with his tongue.

Spencer never had any particular feelings about rimming until he and Brendon started sleeping together, but now, he really, _really_ likes it. Brendon's so beautifully vocal, panting and moaning and calling Spencer's name.

Brendon moans louder against his arm as Spencer slides in a second finger, and Spencer thinks, _fuck it_ , twisting his fingers and working in the tip of his tongue just to hear Brendon cry out, sharp and beautiful, almost like it's too much. The sound makes Spencer's gut clench, and he suddenly can't wait anymore, quickly pulling his fingers out of Brendon's body and moving to stand up on his now unsteady legs.

Brendon's probably not stretched enough, but Spencer reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet anyway. He pulls out what is actually his last condom and makes a mental note to restock before he tosses the wallet by Brendon's arm. If Brendon wants Spencer to work him open more, he's going to have to ask for it.

Spencer slicks a hand full of lube over his dick and uses the head of his cock to spread it and slick Brendon up even more. He pushes his cock slowly against Brendon's ass and waits for Brendon to do more than lay there, breathing loudly. Spencer knows he probably doesn't wait very long, but it feels like an excruciatingly long time before Brendon lifts his head and says in his best Spencer impression, "What? Do you need a written invitation?"

Spencer laughs, pushing in fast and hard, as he leans all the way into and over Brendon's body. He stretches out along Brendon's back and uses one hand to press Brendon's wrists against the table, while he grabs Brendon's hip with his other hand.

Brendon is pretty much trapped under him, but he's not struggling at all. He tries to push his hips back into Spencer's thrusts, lifting himself up on his tip toes to get more leverage. They're moving the table, Spencer is fucking him so hard, and he feels like he should say something, like there should be more than the slide of the table legs against the tile and their harsh breaths to fill the silence.

Everything is hot and slick, and Spencer gets lost in the rhythm, in the sound of their skin slapping together so that the only thing that ends up spilling from his mouth is Brendon's name over and over and over again.

Brendon is almost completely still beneath him now, totally pliant, as he grunts against his forearm. Spencer knows the table must be digging into his hips, but he doesn't complain. He doesn't say anything at all, actually, just tightens his ass around Spencer's cock until Spencer chokes on Brendon's name one last time and comes hard, biting down on his tongue.

Spencer wants to slump against Brendon's back. His legs feel shaky and useless, but Brendon still hasn't come, and Spencer isn't a _complete_ asshole, despite all appearances to the contrary. He pulls out too fast, making both of them suck in a breath loudly, and then pulls Brendon up so they can both slide to the floor together, Brendon's back to Spencer's chest.

Spencer fists loosely around Brendon's cock, and Brendon thrusts his hips lazily. He doesn't seem to be in any kind of a rush, but Spencer's eyes are already so heavy he thinks he could probably fall asleep right there on the kitchen floor. He squeezes his fist, pressing his thumb to the underside of Brendon's dick, and Brendon comes hard over Spencer's fist.

Spencer wraps his arm around Brendon's middle and slides sideways so that they're both laying on the floor. He hooks a leg over Brendon's and pulls him back so he's touching Spencer's front from shoulder to ass.

"There," Spencer murmurs, even though he doesn't really know why he's saying it.

Brendon sighs dramatically. "Yeah, you sure showed me," he says, but he sounds more amused and sated than angry. He wiggles around in Spencer's arms, twisting and turning until they're facing each other.

"Hi," Spencer says.

Brendon nods and kisses Spencer on the chin thoughtlessly. "We should get up," he says, but he just snuggles closer instead of moving to get up.

"This floor hurts," Spencer says.

Brendon hums and then admits, "My ass hurts."

Spencer can't stop the laugh that escapes, shaking his entire body and Brendon's too because of their proximity. "Mine too," he confesses.

Brendon says, "I don't care. It's still your turn next time."

"Nuh-uh," Spencer says. "I told you, never again."

Brendon rolls so that he's spread out on his back. "It's sad that we'll never have sex again," he says.

Spencer says, "Tragic," and makes grabby hands at Brendon, pulling him back so they're snuggled against each other. "Of course, there's always blow jobs and hand jobs, so it's not like we have to go completely without."

"Come on," Brendon whines. "I'll let you have two turns to my one."

Spencer smiles and says, "We'll see."


End file.
